


honey and rum

by jackalshepherd



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Edging, Masturbation, listen. dont look at me alright, scruffy and tired link, sensual, the man deserves a self care day and some pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackalshepherd/pseuds/jackalshepherd
Summary: It's his day off in a long time, and his body knows it. He's going to enjoy himself, and the world can stop for a second to let him indulge and rest.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	honey and rum

**Author's Note:**

> This is very experimental and self indulgent, for both Link and me, so if you like it, merry xmas you filthy animal. This isn't even as graphic as fics get, but I did use the explicit rating and other tags for a reason.

It’s just after nine in the morning, and the sun is stretching through the window, lighting up the loft and landing right into Link’s eyes, pulling him from his sleep. He opens his eyes, sees that that was a stupid idea, and turns his head into the pillow, trying to shut the orange light from his eyelids. Link stays on his stomach, rolled in his blanket, and lets the sunlight warm him, thinking this is what it must feel like for the calico cat that lounges in front of Pruce’s shop, rolling in the warm grass by the wooden posts. This is the latest Link has slept in in a while, usually making himself start his day as early as five or six, even after his fight with Ganon all those months ago. He doesn’t remember Zelda or Purah discussing anything for a to do list the day before, so he figures that warrants him a day off.

An hour later, he’s more alive and is wandering into the general store, petting the shop cat (his new role model in life) as he enters, needing to refill his pantry and reserves. He buys rice, wheat, sugar, milk, portions of his favorite cooking spices, rum, gets teased at by Pruce about the dark blond stubble coming through on his jaw and cheeks, and with a rosy face, also pays for lavender incense sticks. (And arrows. Always more arrows.)

Exiting the store, he places everything in the Sheikah Slate, and swiftly dodges the running children on the road, apologizing _‘sorry, sorry, can’t play tag or monsters today, I know, I know’_ and pulls out a handful of honey candies from the Slate, as a trade toll for him to get to his house. He normally doesn't mind spending time with the village kids, sharing stories of fights or pictures of the odd weapons he's handled, but this is a rare day where he can let any expectations go, and Hylia help anyone who tries stop him. Link crosses the bridge and is so relieved that for once his lawn is empty of visitors, mail carriers, or gossiping construction workers. He has a plan (to do _nothing_ ) on his day off and the odds seems to be in his favor today. _Maybe there’s time for…maybe..._

His groceries are put away in his cabinets or stored away under the stairwell, places the rum, wheat, and sugar on the table for later so he doesn’t forget about them, and after a few seconds of thinking, carries his incense and burner upstairs.

Fifteen minutes later finds him back downstairs in his bathroom, an incense rod burning from upstairs and filling the house with lavender, and him soaking in soapy hot water. He’s rinsing his hair when he thinks, maybe, since he’s not busy… _no, no, later, not here._ A specific part of his body is feeling restless though, and he lets himself lazily soak only for a few more minutes before getting out, not bothering with clothes or a hair tie.  
...He’s almost hesitant to do it, even though he’s free today, nothing he needs to get done that can't wait, he doesn’t plan on answering the door, even if Ganon himself were outside. _Now should be fine, the bed is right there…_

...It starts with him laying on his bed, kicking the sheets down, followed by deep breaths, and digging out a silk ribbon from the nightstand. It takes some ingenuity, but he has his right hand tied to the headboard post, just slack enough to yank, but he won’t be able to move it past his head. He’s still a little damp from his bath but the remaining warmth from the water will help. He’s half hard already as he lies back, head on his pillow, and drifts his free hand down, past the light brown hair on his stomach and the base, down, and gently thumbs at the head.

He’s gently rubbing at the sensitive tip, just enough to make him hot, and his legs spread as he starts to stroke up. He sighs and breathes heavier, his hand moving lazily from the base, gradually tightening as he strokes up to the tip, and gets harder quickly. It isn’t long before he can’t help but move a little faster, lightly whimpering as he tries to keep his thighs open, his right hand jerking down, but getting yanked back by the silk, which only riles him up more, breathing out a whimper as his eyes shut, breathing in the lavender still burning by the bed.

_‘Hhnnn…’_

His voice gets husky and low, his right hand tightening in the silk again, making him let out a low moan as his thigh skids up, trying to keep himself open, and moves his hand faster. His stroking is making a soft wet sound in the room, and he lets his hips slightly thrust into his hand, and for a brief second gets a small cocky smirk on his face as he wishes someone could pull his hair. It’s been a long time since he’s had a lazy day off, and an even longer amount of time since he’s done this, and he doesn’t even care that it’s catching up to him quickly.

He’s starting to drip now, the combination of the lavender and self pleasure making him lightheaded, and his moan tapers to a whimper, as he gets faster, _closer, closer, fuck…_ and he yanks his hand away, edging himself from finishing. His hands tighten at the sheet under him and in the silk cuff, swallowing through heavy breathing as his thighs are shaking, tilting his head and baring his throat, waiting for it to fade.

He starts again, massaging the sensitive tip, teasing into a stroke again, tightening his grip. As he sees more precum drip, he lets out a moan again, turning his head to the side into the pillow as his hand strokes faster, _almost, not yet, come on, please—_ He stops again, his hand hovering, his body is warm, and his cock is wet and hot and he can’t help but moan. Strokes again, fast for a few seconds, and edges again, and his hips almost chase his hand as he moves away. Each time he starts he gets closer and closer, he mouths into the pillow and the air, _can’t hold it any more, oh, fuck, please, please—_

He finally lets himself come, streaks of white lining his stomach, reaching his chest, and he’s shooting for longer than he thought, thighs weak and twitching by the time he’s done, his hand and torso covered in his mess, letting out tired, breathy moans into the room. He’s overstimulated for a few minutes afterward, twitching in the aftermath as he wipes his hand and stomach off with a small towel he brought up earlier. He slowly stretches to untie his right hand, cracking his knuckles as he positions himself on the bed. He knows he needs to get up and get to baking soon, but his body feels like lead, and his head feels like it’s cushioned and filled with haze, and this is the most comfortable he’s been able to feel in a long time.  
He keeps his eyes closed, legs tangled in his sheets, his hands resting on his chest and stomach, and lets himself doze, warm and hazy, falling asleep in the patch of sun.


End file.
